Red Eye
by Troubled-heart-folded
Summary: "Things get crazy and I feel I'm losing my mind and I don't know what to do, I'm going insane but I really don't know why there's only one thing to do. . ." Eddie and Iris breakup, and Miss West finds herself back at Barry's. Barry wants a confession and Iris just wants to do Barry! *set after Obvious Child*


**Hi! So if you read my last story, you know the drill. Below, is a pg-13 rated draft of a smut piece posted on another site. Care to read that version? Shoot me a review or a pm. Thanks so much for reading!**

Obvious Child

Barry didn't have a lot of time to reel. It had been three days since Iris found out and all of the . . . other stuff with them happened. His dreams were of, but what else was new, and he decided it would be best to give Iris time to think even though his poor heart couldn't stand the idea of Iris deciding to stay with Eddie.

But had she texted him that night while he was between shifts at CSI and Star Labs.

"Come over," it said. That was it, and that concerned Barry deeply as a myriad of perilous scenarios starring Iris literally flashed through his mind.

"What's going on? I got here as fast as I could," he said. He lightly placed a hand at the small of her back and leaned in for a kiss that she slipped away from, the cold air on his cheek melting in its proximity to her warm skin.

"Not fast enough I'm afraid," she whispered, not looking him in the eye.

"Wha-"

"Barry," Eddie called, emerging from the kitchen. "What's up, man? Been a while since I saw you last."

Barry recoiled for just a moment, his eyes locked with the floor, "Yeah, it has. You been doing alright?"

"Yeah, all this vigilante business has been keeping me pretty busy."

"I don't doubt it," Barry smirked.

"Okay-" Iris interjected. She had surreptitiously slipped from Eddie and was aside throwing on her coat. "That's enough of that. I think."

"Don't like it when we talk shop?" Eddie asked, his arms coming around her waist. Barry flinched in such a way that the other man didn't see.

"I can't say it's my favorite, no," she said carelessly leaning into his kiss on her cheek. Iris' eyes caught Barry's so quickly, the moment scarcely existed at all.

"You got something against the Flash now?" Barry asked Iris, setting his chin.

Iris whipped around, so the ends of her hair stung Eddie's cheeks. "Of course not," she defended, after minute of stumbling through adding, "I mean, he's done a lot for the city, cut him some slack." She looked back and forth at Eddie and Barry pleadingly.

"No, the CCPD's done a lot for the city. That thing has done nothing but wreak havoc and make us into a joke. You'd well to remember that next time you wanna rush to his defense." The lightness in Eddie's tone had gone and as absurd as it was, Iris grew hot with anger and embarrassment. He'd called the Flash, Barry, she remembered, whoa, a thing, and Eddie had plainly undermined in front of Barry.

Her co-conspirator cleared his throat abruptly.

"Oh, you find what you were looking for?" Iris asked with false curiosity.

Barry went blank. "What?"

"You didn't, like, leave a scarf here or something?" Her eyes went wide with fire.

"No, I didn't, but I'll keep my eyes peeled. Have a good night, lovebirds." With that, he was out the door.

"Dinner?" Eddie reminded Iris, his arms still around her.

"Dinner," she agreed.

And that very same night she found herself here, at Barry's apartment.

"Shit," she hissed, shaking off the rain like a dog, her bright umbrella collapsing, water droplets dripping at their feet.

Not knowing where either of them stood emotionally, they didn't maintain the proximity of the first night. He was a little pissed at her, this much she could see and she still had questions, reservations to move past.

"What's up, Iris?"

"What's up with you? I'm surprised your even here, aren't you usually gallivanting this time of night?"

"I'm on call."

"I broke things off with Eddie."

"Did you?" he breezed.

"Yeah, Barry, I did," Iris replied, exasperated with wet and cold and annoyance. "What, are you mad at me?"

"Should I be?"

"Absolutely not, but there it is, you've got that look. That I'm-too-sweet-to-be-pissed look, so I'm-just-gently-irritated look."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"I think you do. You're mad I went back to him after."

"I hadn't even thought of that."

"Well, I did. That first night I went to his place to beg him to break off the investigation. He wouldn't budge."

"That's good looking out , Iris." He stalked over to the kitchen and ducked down into the refrigerator.

She followed him. "You are so exhausting!" her voice grew sharp.

"Did you come here to pick a fight with me? 'Cause I am not in the mood," he shot over his shoulder.

"No, I didn't come to fight with you," she responded, seating herself on the counter behind him. She toed off her soaking shoes as she sat and they dropped with an unceremonial thud. Then she spread her knees apart on the counter just enough to-

"Then, what do you want?"

She really didn't like this restaurant. Italian was tolerable, but it was safe and boring, and she had had a feeling when they had first started dating that she was just one of many girls that he brought here. Ramon's, midtown.

Iris was staring gravely down the barrel of her straw. A very un-Iris gesture.

"What's wrong with you?" Eddie asked, looking up from his phone.

"I'm just tired," said in a monotone, her lips pouting.

"I'm tired, too. You know?" His gaze was back on his phone.

"I'm sure you are."

"What's that suppose to mean?"

"Chasing vigilantes? Or is he a madman this week?"

"Here we go-"

"Yep, here we go. You know, it's one thing to disagree with me. We have different opinions on a lot of things, I get it. I'm not the most agreeable person, okay. But when it comes to you and me, and my opinion versus your own, don't you ever fucking undermine again like you did tonight. Come to think of it," she said, rising from her seat. "I won't give a chance to. I'm done. I'm out."

"Out? The hell you mean you're out."

"I need to cool off for a while. I've got a lot things in motion right now, and I can't deal with somebody who can't listen. And you've got your witch hunt to focus on, so by all means, go to. You won't find him, the Flash, I mean, and even if you do, you wouldn't have any clue what to do with him."

"Thanks for that," Eddie nodded sardonically.

"You're welcome, asshole."

She put her lips to his quick moving pulse. This was the second- third time that they'd be doing this, and the girl was eager. The blinds were up, the curtains drawn back and some perverse part of her wanted the spectacle. To be seen.

She lay down flush over him, hovering like a second skin. Her hands wandering, the cheeks, his soft, muscular neck. His hands spread down her spine, and fingers curled past the elastic of her lace thong, and tugged restlessly at the fabric. Raising up on her knees she pulled them away and as she undid her matching bra, he pulled away his boxers.

"I like the red," Iris said.

"We aim to please," he replied. His eyes flickered up and down Iris' small body. His hands at her waist snaked up to her breast and squeezed gently. His hands slid down, fingered her lips apart and stroked gently. "You're so wet. What's gotten in to you?" he rasped.

"If I told you, you'd never let me hear the end of it," Iris replied shaking her head, the dangerous words dancing around in her head. I. Love-

"Come on, just say it," Barry begged. "I've waited so long to hear you say it." It, the love thing that neither of them were aloud to say, not just yet, not while they were so fresh and new.

"How long?" she asked.

"What?" he whispered, a scandalized.

"How long have you waited to hear me say it?" she demanded.

"Uh-uh, answer me first."

"Weeks?" she suggested.

"Not quite," he responded.

"Months?" she asked softly, her mouth leaving him for a moment before she bobbed back down.

"Years," he croaked. "years and years and years." He threw his head back.

She sat up again, and sighed. "Since you waited so long, I suppose it's only fair. It's you, Barry. You've got me this way."

"And what way is that?" Barry sat up casually, with his pointed elbows on his knees, his face mere centimeters from hers. They breathed each other in. She smiled bashfully at his insistence.

She didn't want to do this anymore. Iris didn't want to talk, no heart to heart. No confession time. Save it for after, she thought, should we get. She closed the minute distance between Barry and herself. Her lips found his. She kissed him deep and he didn't seem surprised.

Barry abruptly flipped Iris over, so she was on her back and her head at the foot of the bed. She stretched her arms languidly above her and pushed her chest out.

He was so good at this. And Iris couldn't help wondering what other skills of his would come in handy. Her mind shot out, months and years into the future. Barry holding her, Iris holding him, the hard months, the hot months when everything was sex and sweat, the cold months. Barry's smile, the freckles she'd kiss on his back, the thick, leather smell of that suit. Sunbeams on their unmade bed, the rumpled sheets, the sound of water running. The future, she liked the look of it.

And then the sweet, kind man that had once touched her so light and so tentative, pried her legs apart, effectively gluing her knees to the mattress.

"Ohhhh," she exhaled finally as Barry rolled off of her. They both looked up at the ceiling.

"What are we gonna do, Barry. You're a-"

"A freak?"

"A superhero. And my best and oldest friend."

"Should we stop?"

"Do you want to?"

"No," he said honestly, his voice vulnerable and soft. He placed a light kiss on her shoulder.

"Okay then," she said, hand resting low on her stomach. She sprung to her feet, a mischievous grin on her face. "Let's go again," she kissed him and darted away.


End file.
